The Wasteland
by Kama-Mitra
Summary: Dan left more than chaos when his younger self defeated him... he also left his young son. Now, the baby's mother is on the run, hiding from Ghosts and humans alike, as well as the greatest enemy of all... their past.
1. Prolouge

Rated:T (Adult Situations, Language)

Author's Notes:

This is my frst story posted here, and though its possibly lame and trite, hey, its still a start. This story is set in the same word as TUE, though there are a few changes. In true Alternate Reality style, this world has continued because in its past, Danny still became Dan. Dan Phantom is still captured by Clockwork, and the Ghost zone and the human world are still pretty much destroyed. Everyone, humans and Ghosts, are trying to pick up the pieces and continue with life. There is the God Awful OC, but I hope the writing doesn't make her seem like too much a mary sue.

Danny and all other related characters belong to Nick and Butch Hartman.

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The Wasteland

Prolouge

She stood looking at the destruction of her former home. The once mighty skyscrapers were gone, the houses rubble, and the public buildings nothing more than dust. The highways, the roads, even the smallest path were decimated. There were no survivors, no bodies. There was just the unending wasteland landscape. Her heart bled for the loss of life she felt here. There would be more than one ghost to haunt this place. Kneeling in the debris, she almost cried. She had been missing for so long… and now the home that had kept her sane in her captivity was gone, all at his hand.

A keening cry broke the deathly silence, and she quickly moved her child to a more comfortable position in her arms. He was a small, pale bundle in her arms, and she loved him with all her heart. He was her little payment, her retribution for all the years spent in imprisonment. But he looked so much like his father… his dreaded, hated, and powerful father. But he was to all the worlds dead. And she had their son.

He looked into her eyes, and she saw her past washed away in the innocence she found there. His dark brown hair had streaks of black, what was there anyway. The boy was only a few months old. His eyes were a pale grey, but the whites… weren't white. They were a pastel, almost glowing green. And his skin was ashen and pale, instead of rosy and sweet. Oh, why did he look so like his father? His eyes, his nose, all were like. She raised her head from his now sleeping face. He was all she had, and all she could ever have if she wanted to live. His father was hated, and not just by her. He had broken many to become as powerful as he once was. And his son was sure to be thought of with even less love. For the baby they could kill.

"We are hunted, baby-mine, and we will have to find a safe little hole to crawl into." Her soft voice drifted away, carrying across the decrepit city. Using her slight sixth sense, she checked if any had heard the sound. None living or dead was near enough to cause her worry.

Oh, and that was another of her faults! That was why she carried a baby at all. He had known, but not understood. If not for her near death experiences as a child, if not for her powerful view into the unseen, If not for his own rages and technology, she would have just been a plaything, a toy to be used and thrown away. And there would have been no child of that unholy union, no proof that she had once loved him. But she was what she was, and he had once been human. But no longer was he human or Ghost, for he was, thank the fates, as good as dead!

"Gods damn you to eternal anguish, my one time love." She said with affection. Petting their baby's hair, she sat cross-legged on the ground, a sweet smile of memory creeping across her lips. "I used to be _so_ in love. I followed you around, and hung out with your little friends, and even wished for you to have my competitor, for she would be better suited to you. But she died, they all died, and you went away… to the very one you called enemy. And I picked up the pieces of my shattered life and moved on." Her smile became more pained and bitter sweet.

"And here, even while I mourned, the people tittered with rumors and poisons about me. For years, this went on, until finally they told me that I was to be banished. I was the last true link from them to you, my love, and they wanted me gone. So I left the confines of this city, and went into the chaotic, degraded Ghost Town. There I met more of your enemies, found in them the horror of what you had become, heard the atrocities you had committed." She laughed quietly, at herself, uncaring that if stirred her baby.

"And then you came back. First you attacked the city, destroying the only people who could have warned me, had they been so inclined. But to this day, I don't see why it was I you chose to be your concubine and consort. I am not beautiful, nor could I ever help you." She stood, and caressed her child cheek. "The only explanation that occurs to me is that you knew I loved you. And that you either wanted to love me, or wanted to cause me betrayal and pain beyond reckoning. And still, somewhere deep down, I loved you." She wept silently, speaking to none but herself and her uncomprehending baby.

"And that love will always haunt me." She looked down upon her baby's gentle sleeping face.

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End of part one... now read on! Review, too, please!


	2. Bunker

The Wasteland

Bunker

Missa stood in front of two once grand doors, now covered in ivy and crumbling. Shifting the sleeping Hawnt to her hip, she reached out and hit the knocker three times. Hawnt's cradle-basket hung off her arm, nestled in the crook of her arm. Waiting a moment, she also rand the bell that, amazingly, still worked. After a minute or two, she heard shuffling through the thick planks and waited while the owner opened the door.

"Who in their right mind would come here at this time of night? It's not as if I don't have enough torments, with all I once loved lost." A rather older, but still handsome man wedged open the door. His straight silver-white hair was in disarray, and the red and black suit he wore looked in need of a good washing. "Yes well, who is it-" He stopped mid-sentence and looked at her. His eyes were wide, and she almost thought she saw tears there. She was sure that her face was awash in tears by now.

"I- I- came because I have no where else, Mr. Masters. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come." But before she could turn away, she was swept up in his warm, comforting hug.

"Missa! Oh, fates be praised for this once. You're alive! When I'd heard from Vania that he'd gotten you, I was sure you were no longer living." Hawnt, not used to being squished like this, sent up a weak cry. Vlad looked down at the child, and looked into Missa's eyes. She couldn't return the look.

"Perhaps what he did was worse. But, come now, this old house isn't like it used to be, but I'll bet that there's at least a cleared room for yourself and the baby." He ushered her into the ruin of his former manor. The once fine spiral stair was wrought in dust and ivy, the marble choked with chunks of debris and vegetation. Entire spans of the roof were missing, letting in cooling moonlight. The place had once held splendor unrivaled; now, the decay of civilization and the rise of nature were all too evident. To Missa's tired eyes, it was a heaven beyond compare. Moving silently across the foliage, she moved into a pooling of sweet, innocent silver light. Its guileless serenity was a balm on her light-deprived soul.

Vlad masters watched her, and saw how the boy could have been enchanted by her. As a girl, she had been detached, intelligent, icy, even. She had spurned all affection, thinking people were trying to use her. Sadly, she had been right. He himself had tried to manipulate her, and had come… _very_ close to succeeding. After that, she had trusted no one. But this new Missa was strange to him. After all, it had been some nine years since she had come to his door, wide eyed but still alone, asking about Danny. Her brown hair was tinged silver-white in the moonlight, illuminating lines that her twenty four year old face should not have had. She glowed with some inner grace, an aura of wisdom and pain. And, truthfully, it scared him.

And that baby, so small, seemed different in the moonlight as well. Even has his mother and the area around them shone silvers and blues, he glowed with an inner golden light. It shook him to the bone to know that this small creature was the tyrant's son. The now over-thrown tyrant. And Missa needed somewhere to hide.

All too soon, his fears were confirmed. "I need to hide for awhile, Vlad. Hawnt isn't welcome anywhere in the ghost zone, because of his father. And the memory of the humans' betrayal is still too fresh in my mind."

"You do not classify yourself as human, Missa?" She stared at him. The look held no malice in it, just empty of emotion and feeling. And he went cold.

"After what's been done to me, I'm not. Dan had at his disposal thousands of his parent's findings, as well as those from Valerie and her father, and even a few stolen from the former Brooke corp., amazingly. He was a sadistic SOB, and he had rages even destroying cities could not sate." She shrugged, still locked away in her icy façade. "That's what I was for." She looked away from his stare, and Vlad was sure he had seen red hot anger burning deep within her averted eyes. So, she truly had seen horrors, and lived to tell the tale.

"I heard you mention Vania; is she here?" Missa stepped out of the moonlight and drifted closer to him. Her piercing sterling blue eyes were lightly misted from memories best left unthought-of. Placing a hand on the small of her back, Vlad escorted her through the remainder of his main hall and into a rather dark hallway.

"No, my dear, she returned to the ghost zone. The poor thing was lost without you, you see; you were a mother-figure to her." She smiled sweetly, if sadly. Vlad thought that all her happiness was to be tinged with sorrow.

"Not just mother-figure now. Mother, legitimate and verified." Leading her into a suite of still operable rooms, he paused.

"These are all that's left of the house that's livable. There are ghost shields, running water, and luxury of luxuries, feather beds. I have an electricity generator that powers the lights in this small area, and a large supply of candles. I even have a small ice-box, for perishables. A real little paradise, this." Vlad felt ashamed that this was all he could offer her. She had suffered almost four years of hell to be greeted by this mediocre world? But, as dismayed as he was, Missa was aching at its perfection. Placing Hawnt in his cradle basket, she stared. She had not seen anything to welcoming as a rather moth bitten couch, scuffed carpet, a kitchen, and the item she had missed the most; books. Books, novels, anthologies, comics and manga even! She walked into the main room in a daze, moved towards the library without a thought, and caressed the bindings. Of all things he could have brought, television, computers, gaming consuls, even. And he had chosen books. She sank to her knees and began to weep for joy.

Vlad obviously took this as a bad sign, and so rushed in and placed his hands on her shaking shoulders.

"Missa, what's wrong?" As he kept on sobbing, he kneeled and pulled her round to face him, and saw a truly happy smile on her tear stained face.

"You chose books, of all things! Books!" her body loosened so suddenly, Vlad barely had time to catch her.

Helping her stand, Vlad set her down on the couch and brought the baby in to her, and sat next to her. She was still shaken, but there seemed to be less anxiety and pain than there was just a moment before. So, he though, she can be healed from her past.

"What's the child's name?" he asked suddenly. It startled Missa. She had not been expecting that. Lifting her baby into her arms, she rocked him slowly.

"His name is Hawnt. He's only two moths old, but he is still one of the best behaved children I have ever seen. He only rarely cries, sleeps a lot, and when he is awake he seems to understand what it is I'm saying." She clucked to Hawnt softly, and the sleeping bundle woke up. He gazed into her eyes with such tenderness that she thought her heart might just rupture.

Vlad watched her face soften. She loved the child. Dan's child, forced upon her. The son of the greatest and most powerful Ghost to ever walk the human world, or even the ghost-zone. Hawnt, the baby that could one day inherit his father's power. He was the most hated and feared entity across the known universe, and Missa had come here so she could protect him.

"You know that the boy's father stole what was rightfully mine. My Ghost half. My power." She turned to look at him, sharply. Her eyes were hard, but the mistiness was still there. What he had said hurt.

"Yes, and yet you once said the same thing about Jack Fenton. Who, by all accounts, is this child's grandfather. And in a messed up way, you are also partly Hawnt's father. Danny's Ghost half ripped yours away, and they combined into one really scary Ghost. The full Ghost Dan is the _entire_ father, but put his messed origins in a genealogy chart, Mr. Masters, and you and Danny, fates rest his soul, are also related to this baby boy." The revelation had come to him in the middle of her monologue, but it still took time to sink in.

Missa hoped that Vlad realized that she had no where else to go. And she needed his help with raising a baby. She was only twenty-four, and had never planned on ever being attracted to another person, let alone becoming pregnant! But now that Hawnt was here, she would never give him up. Ever. But she still needed help. Vlad's help. Only he might forgive the baby for his father's sin's and take them in. She prayed with every fiber of her being that he would.

"I am, in a way, this child's father." He spoke softly, without real inflection. Missa couldn't look into his pain-wrought, confused eyes. She looked instead to her baby, who was watching Vlad with uncanny seriousness. "And although it would appear that you have the most need of me…" he paused, gathering his thought. "It is that I do not want to live alone in this crumbling manse, wreathed in my memories any longer. You, and your son, are not only welcome here," He looked up, and Missa saw understanding and caring in his eyes. "You are now as much a part of this old place as I am." Missa could think of no thanks large enough to encompass her emotions. So, instead, she decided to show her trust in him.

"Do you want to hold him?" She was offering her baby to him, Vlad realized. She was showing a level of trust he had not dare think about, let alone allow himself to consider. Reaching out gently, Missa placed the warm bundle in his arms. And he looked into the baby's eyes, and Hawnt smiled, letting out a gurgling giggle. And Vlad felt happiness in his heart. Feeling Missa's tired head fall on his shoulder, he heard her whisper.

"Now we are really part of a family, Hawnt. A real family…"

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Review if you liked this (and if you didn't, please be nice)


	3. The Calm

The Wasteland

The Calm

"Come on, sweetie. You can do it! Say 'mama!' Oh, honey, you're just being capricious." Missa leaned back, smiling at Hawnt, who was enthralled by a passing moth. The soft moonlight shone on the meadow, making it seem like an enchanted fairy glen. A stream babbled merrily, its sound like crystal bells being rung all at once. Missa and Hawnt were sitting under the boughs of a great rowan tree, her dress the same silver as the light of the moon. Rubbing her temples good naturedly, she looked up at her companion. Vlad had become a doting 'father' to Missa's sweet young son. He had been protecting them for almost five months now, and never since that first night had he ever said a word about the child's father.

"I think that yours is a wasted venture, Missa. We should hurry back to the manse, before we are sighted." Vlad gently lifted her by her elbow as she shouldered Hawnt. He was right, she knew, but it was such a fair night. Hawnt got to see so little of trees and lakes and other wonders of nature she had taken for granted in her youth. And even less of sunlight. All their adventures into the world were by night, and even then they dared go no farther than this little glade. She noticed the warming sky in the east, the twilight shade lightening to a pale honey color.

"Oh, well. Nothing to do about that. Thank you, Vlad, for reminding me of the time. With dawn so close… I could have jeopardized my son's life." Missa hung her head, realizing once again how ill fit she was to be a mother. She was rightly old enough, but she was still locked away in the child of yesterday. And she could ruin what little life she and Hawnt had. Vlad looked down at her with soft eyes, and a smile crossed his lips. She really was hard on her self.

"Well, that's why I'm here. To make sure you two stay safe." He felt a lump in his throat. Missa and her son had become closer to his heart than he dare let her realize. She was so young, too young for what had happened to her. And Vlad he knew that the slightest breeze might break her, mind and spirit. Missa's head lifted, and he saw a happiness there that had been missing since her childhood.

"Thank you, Vlad. I don't have words enough to say how indebted to you I am." They moved swiftly across the blades of grass, and soon they saw the farthest corner of the manse. As they approached the hidden side door, Vlad paused and motioned Missa to get behind him. The door, which they had locked behind them for their excursion, was wide open.

"I'm going to investigate. Please, Missa, hide yourself and Hawnt. No, don't tell me where. I don't want to expose the two of you to a threat." She nodded silently, and even as he watched, seemed to disappear into the undergrowth of the small wood they had just left.

Steeling himself up for whatever lie within his walls, he entered into the dark castle that had seemed so innocent just a few hours before. But now the shadows seemed to hide sinister eyes, and it looked as if malicious creatures were hidden in every room and corner.

His footsteps on the rock flooring echoed eerily, announcing his location better than any alarm. Vlad felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead as he saw the corridor lead out into the grand hall. He fervently hoped that Missa and Hawnt were well, and that they could find another safe hole if he didn't return. Moving into the open of the hall, he looked up into the fissure riddled ceiling and into the breaking dawn.

"I would ask you to show yourselves, please. This is my home, you must know, and it is impolite to ignore your host." His voice was filled with a scathing condescension, dreading what might answer his challenge.

Nothing happened. Nothing moved. There was no tell-tale Ghost-light, no ectoplasmic attack. Vlad was standing like a fool in the great hall, talking to nothing and being returned with it. Sighing, he allowed his shoulder to droop and turned around. And straight into very big glowing orange eyes.

Vlad jumped back, a strangled cry dying in his throat. His hand flew to his heart, and he looked at the Ghost before him. Her big eyes were even wider than before, and she was looking ashamed and anxious.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Masters! I didn't mean to scare you! Please, don't be mad!" The Ghost promptly floated down, sat and started to cry, her little hand balled up at her eyes. Sighing again, Vlad went over to the girl. Her six year old body glowed a silky, soft green and her pale green flowing dress flowered out around her.

"Vania, darling, you need to take in mind that humans can't sense a benevolent Ghostly presence. You almost scared me into a heart attack." If anything, her crying got louder. Rubbing his temples, Vlad swore that if Hawnt ever did this, he'd buy ear plugs.

"I'm – I'm – I'm SORRY!" She was really shaking, her sobs thick and adorable. All kids were cute when they cried, especially the ones who didn't know they were. Allowing himself a smile, he gently picked up the child Ghost.

"I'm fine, Vania. Now, I'm going to take you outside and introduce you to a friend you haven't seen in quite a while. But you must – I insist in the strongest possible terms – to be quiet. If you aren't, we both might be in an unfavorable situation." Quietly retracing his steps, Vlad was very glad all that had entered his home was this diminutive Ghost. She was quite harmless, and her presence meant that other malevolent beings had not yet entered. Vania might be sweet, but she ran from all things malicious. But if some other entity had gotten in… he shuddered to think of the consequences to himself and poor Missa.

This time around, the walls were less menacing, and Vlad had barely the time to think of spooks when he was busy trying to soothe the six-year-old Ghost, a feat in itself. The passage went quickly by, and soon they were at the rear door again.

Quickly placing one finger to Vania's lips, he cautiously walked through the door and onto the green grass. Looking about, he saw no sign of Missa or her young son. Moving forward a little more, Vlad spoke loudly but calmly, his subdued voice resonating strangely amongst the trees.

"Everything was fine. Alls well to enter, my dear." He stood stock still as he heard a rustle in the undergrowth. Who knew what was released in the times since the fall of The Phantom? What creatures lurked in the human world that should not have even seen the light of the Ghost Zone?

But as Missa's slim figure emerged from the undergrowth, Vlad smiled slightly and felt his shoulders relax. Missa brought a sense of calm to the clearing, as though somehow she banished all the terrors released by her tormentor. Her dress, salvaged from a ruined department store, had leaved snagged upon it and there was a little dirt on her knees and arms.

"MISSA! Oh, Missa! You're back! I missed you so so so so much!" Vania struggled in Vlad's arms, trying to free herself of his restraining hold. Letting go, the girl Ghost literally flew to Missa's skirts, hugging her legs, burying her face in the mother's dress folds.

"Vania! Oh, sweetie, I missed you too! Goodness knows I was afraid for your safety… I wasn't sure how you would defend yourself. I'm so happy you're alright." Kneeling down, Missa hugged the small Ghost.

"What are you holding, Missa?" Vania looked up at Hawnt, head tilted inquisitively. Hawnt was sucking his fingers, looking right back at Vania's staring. His oddly colored eyes showed vague interest before he turned back into Missa's shoulder. Smiling slightly, Missa touched Hawnt's hair gently.

"Vania, this is my son. His name is Hawnt, and I love him very much." Vania's eyes widened as her eyes darted from mother to child. Without meaning to, she took a step back, running into Vlad's legs.

"He's the son of the Phantom, isn't he?" Her voice was quiet and barely audible in the dawn. Her eyes were wide with fright and a strange kind of awe. Missa nodded softly, her eyes holding so much hope and despair.

"Yes, he is. But he's also my son. I love him so much, Vania, and I couldn't live without him. He is all I have that is truly, undeniably mine." She held the baby close and closed her eyes, waiting for Vania's response. If the girl, her one friend from before… everything, didn't accept Hawnt, Missa knew that there would be a missing place in her heart.

"Well, if you say so… then he is ok with me. When can I hold him?" The child's sudden change of moods caused Vlad to smile. It was so like a real child's reaction to something different and frightening. As soon as an adult said it was ok, and it held no obvious menace, it was deemed safe. It also spoke volumes as to why some children allowed abuse.

Looking at Missa, Vlad watched how she too smiled and explained that Vania had to wait while Hawnt got a little bigger until she could hold him. What _had_ happened to her in the interim care of The Phantom, other than the obvious? How could she survive such and still smile?

"Vlad, the sun is fully risen. We should go inside." Looking at her companion, Missa was slightly chilled at the look of pity Vlad gave her. What thoughts had caused such a sharp reaction? Clasping one of Vania's ghostly hands in her own, Miss shouldered Hawnt and waited for Vlad to come to her side before entering.

As Vlad moved towards the door with them, he suddenly paused, a question forming on his lips. Kneeling down to Vania's eyes level, he looked at her, his eyes serious and non-condescending.

"I have been trying to answer what was odd about this situation. Vania had no idea that Missa was with me, and yet, she sought me out. What caused you to do this, Vania? Why did you try to find me?"

Vania looked right into Vlad's eyes, her orange eyes as serious as his own. Missa felt her little hand clench, and there was a stillness to her that scared the mother. What wasn't Vania telling them? Staring dead into Vlad's eyes, Vania spoke, her voice clear and sharp, if not loud.

"He's back, Mr. Maters. The Phantom is free."

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spooky music THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA IS HERE! ... wait, wrong fandome. Heehee. Anyway, review if you can, please. If you have no fingers, thenI don't expect you to. However, if you DO have fingers, write a review!


	4. Near Miss

Author's Notes:

Oh, I'm not dead! There's a new chapter up! dances lol, heres to new beginings!

Danny and all other related characters belong to Nick and Butch Hartman.

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The Wasteland

Near Miss

Missa's fingers deftly twisted and connected wires in an old Ecto-cannon, her hair pulled up in a small bundle at the nape of her neck. She worked with a nervous energy that was only matched by Vlad's as the pair focused on salvaging the old Anti-Ghost weapons from the decade before. When all they had to worry about was Danny. Now, the pair dared not think of what they had to deal with. They worked in an old antechamber off of the main hall, slaving together, repairing and creating the weapons they would need to defend themselves.

Vania was humming some sing-song story to Hawnt, who had become her charge for the moment, wrapped up in a blanket and securely fixed to his cradle basket. The young Ghost girl had become completely enamored with the sweet little baby, and any old fear lingering had been utterly demolished by the coos of adoration the boy had given her. They had claimed the main hall as their playground, and after Vlad's assurances it was safe, Missa had given it to them. The two, together, kept out of trouble, and out of the adults' hair.

This was a godsend, as Missa didn't know how much she could take. Worn thin by fear and heavy anticipation, her fuse had become short. She would never, never yell, but Vlad had once or twice put a hand on her shoulder, snapping her out of whatever private rage had enveloped her mind. But, right now, Missa was entirely focused on the plasma cannon and its delicate circuitry. It was an old Brooke Corp. model, and she could therefore work it. Anything newer she didn't understand. Ten years apart from human civilization had cost her a great deal in knowledge.

"Vlad, throw me the anti-rad coupler, if you don't mind." The older man grunted and tossed it to her, and she caught it without even looking up. He was working on his old inventions, still in the paper-and-pencil phase of most of them. With all the new technology he had forsaken, he needed time to update the blueprints. Vlad was feeling his age with every passing moment, the despair that thickened the air around him becoming tighter as he tired.

Dropping his pencil, he bowed his head for a moment. They were working against a clock they couldn't see. There was no telling when Dan would arrive, if he even did. They couldn't move fast enough, it seemed, waiting for a villain to arrive even as they dreaded it. The calm before the storm, he mused.

"Not quite the calm, Vlad. More like the flurry of activity on the eve of battle." Sharply lifting his head, he glared at Missa's back, all he could see of her. Her shoulders were hunched, head hung as low as his had been. Her fingers were splayed on the floor, gripping it, as though she needed and anchor, or the sensation, or merely a distraction. She turned to look at him, and he saw a receding silver cast to the iris of her eyes. Then it was gone, vanished completely. But it was the emotion within those eyes that caused him to slip from his chair to sit next to her on the ground, her fear and insecurity that had him tentatively touch her hand.

"What am I now, Vlad? Am I human becoming something else, or am I now no longer human at all?" Missa turned her head, but not before Vlad had seen rage burning within her.

"He had best not come here, Vlad. I don't know what I would do. I am too strong to merely cave, too weak to confront him. I wonder, who would win if he and I did battle? Dr. Frankenstein and his creation, his Monster. But the real question, which one, of he and I, is the Monster?" She drew in a great breath, and then let it out, slowly. Vlad removed his hand and smiled at her, his face lined with worry and desperate care.

"Are you going to be well, Missa? We can take a break for now, and call it a day. We've both been pushing ourselves to the limit, what with the Sword of Damocles hanging above our heads. Perhaps you should go to the library and relax for a bit." Missa shook her head, but did so with a wry, spiritless grin of her own.

"No, I think not. All I need is to see little Hawnt. I'll feel better after holding my baby." She stood, her shoulders a little lax, and gracefully left the anteroom towards the main hall. His eyes lingered on her form for a moment, her effortless movement and implicit poise. Realizing his thoughts, Vlad shook his head, willing whatever perverse cloud that had shaded his thoughts away. She was his charge, she and her child. They needed protection, not another problem unsettling their foundations. Then he turned his attention back to the work in front of him, straining every synapse trying to find the perfect solution.

Missa walked over to where Vania and Hawnt were sitting. Vania had a small chapter book in her lap, and was reading it to the half asleep baby. The little Ghost girl had reading skills that would put most preteens to shame, but that was to be expected. She had been six for a very long time. Smiling at the children, as Vania had obviously claimed Missa as a mother, she sat down next to them. Vania looked up and smiled, but she kept reading until the end of the chapter. When she had completed it, she closed the book carefully and grinned up at Missa.

"I think Hawnt likes _Howl's Moving Castle_, Missa. I remember when you read it to me, and I thought it would be nice for him to hear it, too." Missa petted Vania's orange hair, twining bits of it in her fingers.

"Thank you, dear. I'm glad you like him. If you hadn't, I don't know what I would have done." The Ghost girl shrugged nonchalantly, but her reddening cheeks showed that she liked to hear that she was important. Hawnt gurgled merrily, catching both of their attention, and Missa shrugged him out of his basket. Vania tickled his little booties, eliciting another happy giggle.

"He looks so much like you, Missa! Was this how you looked as a baby?" Missa laughed, and touched her baby's nose.

"Maybe. I never had many baby pictures of me growing up, and if I did, God knows where they might be now. I wish I was as cute as my little Hawnt. Then I would have become a television star!" She stood up, and grabbing Vania's small hand, began to swirl about the room.

"Imagine it; we would have stormed Holly Wood with our dazzling good looks and brilliant personalities! We could have had every movie role. You, Vania, would have been the new Shirley Temple, sweeping the stage with your sweet innocence, and your precious little friend, Hawnt! You would have done a remake of 'Oliver Twist!'" Placing Hawnt on her hip, Missa spun Vania one handed, much to the little girl's amusement, if her happy laughter was any indication.

"What's this I hear about you three? Are you going to leave this old man behind and go off to Broadway?" Vlad came out, still disheveled, but grinning like a madman. His hands were behind his back, obviously hiding something. He sauntered over to the invigorated trio and with a flourish, bowed low. Missa laughed at his mock-sincerity and curtsied in her overalls.

"Of, course, you old hack, we're off to join the circus, too! Travel the world, see the Pyramids and the Great Wall, hobnob with the crowned heads of Europe!" Vlad laughed aloud at this, and with great ceremony, began to produce what he had brought.

"Well, you can't go gallivanting off in that getup. I've brought something foe the lovely ladies and the handsome gentleman…" And with that, he produced a set of shawls, boas, a moth eaten dress and one graying Top Hat.

Vania screamed and flung herself at the costume finery, and Missa caught herself joining right in with an exited shriek of her own. Vania pulled on the dress over her usual outfit and flung a shawl about her arms, and floating up a few feet began flying back and forth, round the humans in the room. Missa stepped out of her overalls, leaving her in a pair of shorts and a baggy T-shirt. But it seemed like the finest wardrobe selection as she flung about her shoulder one obnoxiously red boa, and pulling the Top Hat from Vlad's laughter shaken hands, placed it upon Hawnt's head, where it promptly slipped over his eyes.

"Now, what a sight we make!" Missa held her baby close and spun around, while Vania soared about and Vlad shook with mirth. He was amazed by everyone's gaiety, and yet, he wasn't surprised. They had all needed this, a break from the terror. So, he allowed himself to be brought into the fun when Vania grabbed his hands and began to spin about with him, almost as Missa was doing with Hawnt.

Their laughter rose from the room to fill the mansion, and somehow, the gloom seemed to visibly shift. Rooms that had not seen a human in years suddenly became warm and inviting; lamps, which no amount of wiring could light, flashed into life with a shiver. Shadows fled from this new enlightenment, chased out by the laughter that woke the home. It was as though their joy had been given sentience.

And so, when the pale grey clouds became tinged with a green so violent and despicable that only one thing in the entire world could have caused such a distortion, and the creator of so much pain and anguish flew once again in the skies, the manor quieted. The windows hid their light, the echoes were silenced by living walls. The house, now a home, was keeping its inhabitants. The living will of the woman within had been given over to the silver mist that now held their house. And even as it whispered to the outside world, _no one is here, go elsewhere for your prey_, it said to those within _you are our charge, and we will keep you safe._

And even as the laughter of Vlad and Vania rang in the halls, the rooms, the walls, Missa stepped outside the mirth of her small family, and looked to the sky, where she knew somewhere, her enemy was. But at the touch of one small hand, she looked into her son's golden eyes, gold that steadily ebbed away, and she felt that her safety and the safety of all in this, their home, was assured. And her laughter rang out, loudest of all, for now she knew that she was more protected than ever. For, the unasked for gift from The Phantom was obvious; the very _walls_ would fight for her now. And so she held Hawnt close, and grabbing the hands of both Ghost girl and friend, she spun wildly about, until they all fell to the floor, exhausted.

---

So, here it is, and again, I'm alive and well!


End file.
